“I will note your disappointment in the family records,” I returned dryly, suppressing my smile. This easy banter had become one of my greatest joys, the way we shifted from intimacy to playful teasing.
The jet dipped lower, the landscape rushing up to meet us as we approached the private airfield. I felt the familiar tightening in my chest that accompanied my return to Avaline, a mixture of homecoming comfort and the weight of expectations. But this time, my anxiety was tempered by Theo and Casey's presence, allowing me to see my homeland through fresh eyes.
“Almost there,” I said, squeezing Theo's hand before releasing it to secure my seatbelt.
Across from me, Theo helped Casey with his own belt, his movements gentle but efficient. Casey's nurse, Janet Luzon, who had been dozing in one of the rear seats, joined us for the landing, checking Casey's comfort with professional care. She had agreed to accompany us to Avaline for a transitional period, ensuring Casey's care remained consistent while we established a new medical team for him. “How are you feeling, Casey?” she asked.
“Excited,” Casey replied, his gaze fixed on the approaching runway. “And hungry.”
Janet laughed. “We'll get you something to eat soon,” she promised, glancing at me for confirmation.
“Absolutely,” I assured them. “I've arranged a light meal for the estate. The ride from the airfield takes about forty minutes.”
“Casey's medications?” Theo asked, the edge of worry never far when it concerned his brother's care.
Janet patted Casey's arm. “All taken care of. Dr. Westfield's detailed treatment plan was translated and sent ahead to Dr. Moreau, who'll be Casey's primary physician here.”
I nodded, grateful for Sébastien's efficiency in handling these details. “Dr. Moreau speaks excellent English and has experience with similar cases. He's assembled a team including a neurologist, physical therapist, and speech pathologist—all bilingual. They'll maintain the exact protocols Casey's been following. The medical suite we've prepared in the east wing has all the equipment from the list your doctors provided,” I added, hoping to ease the concern I could still see lingering in Theo's eyes.
Theo's shoulders relaxed. “Thank you. I just worry about—”
“I know,” I said softly. “But I promise you, his care here will exceed what he received in America.” I leaned close. “Royal privilege has its advantages.”
The jet touched down smoothly. As we taxied toward the terminal, I could see two black Mercedes waiting on the tarmac. “Welcome to Avaline,” I said, turning to Theo and Casey with a smile of confidence, despite the anxiety about what awaited us.
Especially tomorrow's meeting with my parents.
The drive from the airfield to Château Bellerive wound through the picturesque Avaline countryside, revealing views that even I found captivating. Spring coated the hills in vibrant greens and wildflower splashes. Ancient stone villages nestled in valleys, their church spires reaching skyward.
I watched Theo and Casey taking in these sights, their expressions a mixture of wonder and disbelief. Casey pointed excitedly at landmarks, asking questions I answered with unexpected pleasure.
“It's like something from a movie,” Theo murmured as we passed a charming village square, complete with a centuries-old fountain. “I keep expecting people to break into song and dance.”
“I assure you, the locals reserve their singing and dancing for festivals,” I replied with a laugh.
“Says the man who was anything but dignified last night,” Theo whispered, leaning closer so only I could hear.
Heat rushed to my face at the memory of our passionate reunion after Casey had retreated for the evening. “That was your influence,” I murmured, enjoying the way his eyes darkened at my words.
“Good. Your dignity could use some dismantling now and then.”
Our moment was interrupted by Casey's excited shout. “Look! Is that it?”
I turned to see Château Bellerive rising on the horizon, its pale stone walls glowing in the late afternoon sun. The original medieval fortress had been transformed over centuries, with each generation adding its own touch—Gothic towers from the late medieval period, Renaissance wings with their symmetrical facades, even some classical elements during the Enlightenment. “Yes, that's it,” I confirmed, pride swelling within me. “Château Bellerive, one of my family's properties.”
“Holy shit,” Theo breathed, then flushed. “Sorry, that wasn't very... um, elegant of me.”
I laughed, squeezing his hand. “On the contrary, it's precisely the reaction the original builders hoped to evoke. The château was designed to impress, even intimidate. 'Holy shit' is entirely appropriate.”
As we drew closer, more details came into view, the formal gardens stretching from the south facade, the lake glittering beyond the eastern wing. I found satisfaction in sharing my homeland, in seeing its beauty reflected in their eyes.
The cars passed through the ornate iron gates and proceeded up the long, tree-lined drive. Gravel crunched beneath the tires as weapproached the forecourt, where Sébastien stood waiting at the foot of the grand entrance steps.
"Votre Grâce," he greeted, his formality a reminder of my duties. "Bienvenue chez vous."
"Merci, Sébastien," I replied, matching his tone before helping Casey, who was being assisted by Janet.
Sébastien approached, his usual formal demeanor softening slightly. "Mr. Bennett," he said, nodding to Theo with a hint of warmth that hadn't been present during their first meeting in San Diego. "Welcome to Château Bellerive."
